the tip of the tongue
by distant millennium
Summary: She learns to let go. — Misty, her musings, and Gary. Takes place before SM arc.


The Tip of the Tongue

 _In some ways, we're all a little delusional when we read between the lines._

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.

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 _May._

When Misty first heard her name pass through his boyish grin, she thought that it was the end for her.

Misty was relieved, in fact, to learn that this wasn't the case, as the bright eyed trainer continued to call her frequently throughout his Hoenn adventures, sometimes bringing Brock to the screen, so that she could feel at home.

When she first met May in person, she decided that she liked the younger girl. Misty saw herself in her, and the way May looked at Ash was the same way she looked at her brother when he said something to get on her nerves.

That was the last time she left the region on a personal trip, and after their second meeting, she realized, with some temperament, that she would be alone for a long while.

* * *

 _Dawn._

The younger girl was a lot of things, and of those things, she was everything May was not.

Dawn was confident and eloquent. There was a sparkle in her eyes that Ash had talked about during one of his less frequent calls. There was fire in her heart and passion for things Ash could barely explain and Misty herself could not give much of an explanation to due to her more tomboyish nature, but she knew enough to know it coincided with her siblings' cup of tea.

Misty was sure to set a recording for her broadcasted festival, much like what she had done with May.

It didn't take very long for Misty to realize that Dawn was the kind of person to know exactly what she wanted and how she was going to get it. That scared Misty to the core, and the gym leader found herself deleting the recording shortly thereafter.

She wouldn't touch the TV until after Ash failed to inform her that the Lily of the Valley Conference had finished its closing ceremony, and Misty was left to watch the reruns with puffy eyes and a permanent frown.

And then Gary came home with stories to tell and her name on his lips.

* * *

 _Iris._

Brock wasn't there to fill her in this time on any details Ash may have forgone during his ramblings because he had his own responsibilities to tend to and dreams to pursue. The latter of which she could not relate to due to having stayed in the same spot for nearly three years. Her sisters were never home, she rarely got any calls, she faced rookie trainers that occasionally bested her purely because of type advantage, and Professor Oak and Tracey were too polite to tell her she was intruding on their work... but what else was new?

Instead, Misty chose to speak to Gary over salty diner food and cheap coffee. Even then, he didn't know much, but Misty would take the scraps she could get. _Something_ was better than nothing.

As Ash's aspirations grew larger, his contact with those once closest to him grew shorter and rare — a sentiment that, perhaps, she and Gary built a mutual trust over.

("Welcome to the Ketchum recycle bin, we take applications after each league Ash challenges," they had once mused to a confused and mildly concerned May, who was visiting Kanto in between contest seasons. She left with her boyfriend? rival? travel partner? _someone_ shortly thereafter. Gary and Misty had missed his introduction because they were too busy toasting to their misfortune in jest.)

Iris was different in all matters of the word. That was a good thing too, Gary mused to her over lukewarm eggs and sputtering jukebox tunes from his grandfather's time, because it meant that Iris seemed to have eyes on Ash's newest adviser and not the doe-eyed boy himself.

("Oh, quit scowling, Red," Gary chided after he delivered the speculation and Misty had enough time to process it. "Cilan is younger than Brock and more inclined to follow his head over his dick.")

Iris, Misty decided, while cutting a piece of crumbling pancake and clinking her fork against Gary's, was likable after all.

* * *

 _Serena._

For the first time in years, Misty felt sick to her stomach.

Ash had yet to call her since he set off for his newest adventure. In passing her gym phone one day while taking a break from her weekday challengers, she caught a glimpse of an incoming call from Kalos and immediately knew who it was.

After pleasantries were exchanged, it didn't take long for a short dishwater blonde to pop up on the screen ... and leave Misty to wonder why she had ever answered the phone in the first place.

Dauntless twinkle in her eyes, the way she looked at him were all things she saw in her older sisters when they brought their dates home — _if_ they were home.

( _I'll have you, and then I'll discard you without a second glance._ )

May had given Misty hope. Dawn had shown her confidence. Iris remained unbothered and driven by her own passions. Serena gave her one glance and one disgustingly sweet smile as if to say, "To hell with hope! To hell with _you_!" and destroyed whatever feelings Misty had been grasping at for the last five years in one fatal bat of her luscious eyelashes.

She hadn't even noticed the video feed went dead until she heard her pokécell blast an obnoxiously loud tune and made plans to meet with the caller later that evening with hasty promises to exchange stories over cheap food and toxic drinks.

At least _Gary_ had better timing.

* * *

Author's note (1/14/19): I'm venting. Thanks again, spaghetti, for putting up with my 4 AM ramblings and translating them into coherent English.


End file.
